"Hi Everyone!"

"Who am I?"

"Well, my memory is kind of foggy but I think I began my life as a 1946 Aeronca Champ (7AC). My birth certificate indicates that my OLD and BUSTED body is 66 years old, but the scuttlebutt around the hangar is that I only have about 600 hours Total Time. Hey, that ought to make me one of the lowest time Champs in the world."

"I've had a hard life. My owners have abused, neglected, and left me for dead. My crumpled body sold from one good intentioned owner to the next. Me! My soul never gave up, longing for a lazy day of flying or a gentle bath. How I long for just a whiff of avgas, a belch, and fire in my nostrils. Longing to do what I was designed for. Like I said, I have had a hard life. My obituary was printed in several publications in March of 1980. (See Obituary)"

"On one October day in 2009, I heard a strange voice talking to my owner, James. What! He wants to by a Champ. "ME! ME! ME!" I screamed in silent anguish. "ME! ME! ME! I'm already in the jig getting my bones straightened. Pick me, please." And then he was off, my self esteem takes another blow."

"A few day later, startled, I awoke to find someone at work on me. Replacing my bones with new, welding here and there. Then, I heard the voice of the stranger again. He and James were, what... Making plans on... Somebody loves me... He has a daughter that wants to learn to fly.. Avgas, here I come! I have an owner!!!"

"Well, it looks like I am destined to be resurrected. New owners. New digs. I be 'stylin.' I even hear that I'm going to get a hanger, but I be no Queen."

Hey, that me. I just came out of the jig. Not too pretty at this point. Finish up some welding and I'm off to the beauty parlor.